A glimpse of movement and Giles’ shoulders were back against the wall with Alasdair pressing him there. Alasdair raised his fist and then his face changed and he hesitated and lowered his arm. Giles sneered and he ducked out of Alasdair’s grasp, moving very quickly for a man of his size, grabbing Alasdair’s arm and twisting it behind him.
“Alasdair!” Arabella tried to get to him but she was shoved out of the way by Lord Painswick who had gotten between the sideboard and the two men.
“Don’t spill the claret, Morpeth,” said the marquess.
Arabella darted around the marquess and could see that Alasdair was not resisting or struggling against Giles’ hold on him. His face was white and he held still as Giles twisted his right arm up.
“Let go of him!” Arabella screamed.
“My shoulder joint is out of place,” Alasdair said quietly. “I assure ye I am nae danger to ye.”
Giles laughed. “I was never worried that you were a danger to me.” And then he grimaced and let go of Alasdair, who stumbled forward a step.
Arabella was by Alasdair’s side and put her hand on his uninjured left arm. “Come with me, Doctor.”
Alasdair pulled out of her grip and Arabella had to almost run to stay near him as he strode out of the room. His right arm dangled oddly. But when he got out of the room, he clutched his right arm with his left hand and bent his head and gagged. “Dr. Andrews,” Arabella said.
His eyes darted around the hall as if he didn’t know where to go next. Arabella could see his legs were trembling. He avoided looking at her.
“I broke my word to ye. I dinnae control myself. I was going to strike him.”
“Let’s go to my bedchamber, Doctor. Can you make it there?”
His face was even more white than before. It made his eyes very green.
“There’s not a thing wrong with my legs,” he said.
But she noted that he walked very slowly now and completely cradled his right arm in his left. He winced with each jar of his body as he took the stairs.
The butler Andrews had suddenly appeared and was standing behind Alasdair and Arabella on the stairs.
“What can I do, Mrs. Andrews?”
Arabella turned to Alasdair questioningly.
Alasdair said through his teeth, “Ice or snow. Two strong men. A strong bedsheet.”
“Please send for Paterson,” Arabella said. “Our coachman staying with the grooms. And is there another man who can assist him?”
“Yes, Mrs. Andrews. I am capable of helping.”
“Of course you are, Andrews. Thank you.”
The butler bowed, turned on his heel and walked away, and Alasdair continued his slow upward climb, Arabella following him until they reached the top of the stairs and then she almost ran ahead of him to open the door to her bedchamber for him.
In Arabella’s bedchamber, Alasdair very gingerly sat on the edge of the seat of the wing chair as Arabella, under his instructions, held the tails of his coat out so he did not sit on them.
“The tailcoat will be the difficult article of clothing to remove,” he said. “But we cannae cut it. ’Tis my only one here.”
With Arabella holding the end of the left sleeve and Alasdair resting the right arm on his lap, he was able to extract his left arm. Then Arabella moved the coat around his back and very slowly, trying to jostle Alasdair as little as possible, she drew the right sleeve and the entire coat over his right arm.
“That was very gentle, that was very good,” Alasdair said but he had grimaced several times and his face was still very white.
The folded tartan scarf that fell out when she unbuttoned his waistcoat made her wince with regret. What hope she had held in heart when she had hemmed that length of wool for him back in Dunburn on the eve of their voyage. And now that hope was all gone. Ruined by her temper. And his stupidity when she had hoped he was the not-stupid man.
When she picked the scarf up and put it on top of his folded tailcoat, she looked at his face, but it was unchanged. She was sure his mind was wholly focused on controlling his own pain.
But in comparison to the tailcoat, the waistcoat was easier to remove—no sleeves.
